


Champion

by commander_hot_pants



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, Lost Limb, Post ME3, Recovery, Shakarian - Freeform, Vancouver, after the war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-01 19:10:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8634574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commander_hot_pants/pseuds/commander_hot_pants
Summary: Post-Mass Effect 3, Shepard is learning to live in a galaxy that doesn't need her, learning to deal with the changes the war made to her body. New scars - physical and emotional- create new hurdles to jump and new battles to fight. With Garrus by her side she slowly begins to cope, not well, but well enough.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some swearing and minor seizure depiction. This fic is no longer part of the Allison Shepard cannon. Its storyline and the Chasing the Sun storyline are in no way connected.

Shepard suddenly leaned forward and brought Garrus' attention from the pamphlets in his hands to her face, "…should be ready to attach in two weeks."

"I thought I made it pretty clear how I felt about cloning me." She said in a flat voice, if Garrus hadn’t known her as well as he did he might have missed the twitch to her left eyebrow that gave away her fury.

"We're not cloning you, just using your cells to make a new leg." The doctor put his hands out, palms up towards her. "Think about it like a transplant from yourself."

"I don’t want a _fucking_ _cloned_ _leg_." Shepard barked, her grip on the chairs armrest tightening.

"Maybe," Garrus interrupted, forcing his finger into her clenched fist and into the semblance of a lovers hold, "we should talk about the new medication."

"Do you have concerns, Mr.Vakarian?" The doctor asked pulling up his omni.

"Yeah, _Mr.Vakarian,_ do you have concerns?" Shepard repeated with one side of her lip snarled.

"I uhm," He tried to shake off the glare she was burning into him, "your seizures are down." He finally said, turning back to the doctor, "She hasn’t had one since we last saw you. Not even a quiet one."

"A week without," he said it with raised eyebrows and a slight smile, "that’s very good news. That’s great progress, you should be proud."

"Proud?" Shepard rolled her eyes. "Yeah I should get a fucking gold-star for going a whole week without shitting my pants, thanks. Then I could get a prize ribbon every night I don’t wake up screaming. Maybe if I make a whole month without vomiting blood we can all go to Disneyland together." The side of the doctor's lips pulled but he'd long since passed on commenting on her attitude- that was a job for her psychologist.

"I think that’s probably enough for the day." He said, closing his omni and pushing back from the desk. "I'm sending some updated prescriptions to reception, you can collect them when you make your next appointment." The doctor had long learned not to give Shepard painkillers until after she promised to return, Garrus had to respect that.

"Thank you doctor," He said standing, he offered an arm down to Shepard but she glared it away and slowly, carefully stood up on her own on legs -- own leg. It must have been much more difficult than she was letting on, if the white skin on her knuckles that grasped her cane were any indication.

"Don’t forget to come in to your therapy tomorrow." The doctor reminded as they walked out the door, Shepard grunting a non-committal noise in response.

"Do you need a hand?" Garrus whispered.

"I'm fine." She hissed back, face downward. Maybe she was staring at her false leg, but from this angle it was impossible to tell. It was already dark outside, Vancouver having recently decided night started at four p.m.. The weather wasn’t helping Shepard's mood but relocating would involve new specialists and as much as Shepard hated her doctors at least they were doctors she already knew.

Shepard made a pained noise in the back of her throat as they came to stand just behind a woman at reception, the woman was quietly arguing with the receptionist about clinic hours and seemed to have no intention of letting it go.

"Why don’t you go sit down?" Garrus leaned in close enough so only she could hear him.

"I'm fine." She grunted, but the way her free hand clenched in on itself told Garrus she was anything but. She glanced towards the waiting room seats and thought for a second, "I'm just… just gonna go get a cup of water." She started towards the seat slowly. After Garrus made her new appointment and got her prescription, he found her sitting in the seat closest to the watercooler with no cup in her hand. He stood in front of her for several minutes as Shepard stared past him out the window, watching the rain as it pelted against the glass.

"I thought we were past the whole leg thing." She muttered, still not looking at him. Garrus sighed and took the chair next to her, they weren’t the only two in the waiting room but there was enough distance between them and the others that he felt comfortable speaking at a low volume. "Its bad enough having this _thing_ in my brain."

"Its not in your brain, Shepard." She flipped him a gesture that Garrus, with only 3 fingers, would never be able to return. "If it wasn’t in there you wouldn’t be able to walk at all."

"I didn’t ask to walk." She said, eyes falling to her left hand. She flexed her fingers several times and Garrus knew she was trying to remember which ones were original and which ones had been grafted, the cloning technology made no visible skin difference or scar. "No one asked me what I wanted."

When they found her, she had been on the cusp of death, among her injuries her left leg blown off from the knee down, all but two ribs broken. Her spinal column had been severed and if they had waited for her to wake up before mending it she wouldn’t have felt anything from the waist down, maybe nothing from the shoulders down they'd never know for sure. Garrus was thankful everyday he'd never have to know.

Whatever brain injuries she'd sustained were still on their way to recovery, seizures still plagued her often, nights often punctuated with terrors, and days with panic attacks. She didn’t remember much after the beam, or at least she told him she didn’t, but among her screaming he could often pick out Anderson's name so he wasn’t sure if that was true.

There were several muscle grafts making up her shoulder and most of her left hand had to be rebuilt from scratch. Luckily cloning and attaching fingers was quicker than legs, otherwise Garrus was sure he'd be intertwining his hand with a stub and a crooked thumb right now.

"I'm starving," He finally said, squeezing her fingers lightly. "How about that soup place you like? The one beside the dextro kebob shop."

"Pho." Shepard mumbled, eyes locked on their hands. "The soups called pho."

"Well the kebobs are called _Nithentick_." He said, though from the twitch to Shepard's nose he assumed the translator spat 'kebob' right back at her. "Come on, I'll help you up."

"No, I'm fine." But as she put the cane on the floor her shoulder shook and it fell from her hand. The clatter attracted glances from everyone in the room and Shepard put her hand over her face, her other arm turning in towards him, trying to hide the distinctive stripe on her hoodie. The staff had grown used to Commander Shepard, but the other patients hadn’t yet.

From behind her hand he could see her lips quivering and her eyelids fluttering. He hated himself for not knowing if it was a panic attack or not. After a minute, she took a deep breath and lowered her hand, the black paint she wore around her eyes had smudged slightly but it was barely noticeable.

"Sorry," She whispered so quietly even right next to her it was hard to catch, "lets go."

"Let me _help_ you." He said again, a little more forcefully this time.

"Garrus," She turned tired eyes on him, she'd deny it if he asked but he knew she was running on at least three nights without sleep, "just let me keep my goddamned dignity."

"Sorry, which was the dignified option?" He asked. "The one where your turian boyfriend holds your arm or the one where you fall flat on your face in front of strangers." She grit her teeth and looked away. "It wasn’t rhetorical, Shepard."

"I don’t recall calling you my boyfriend." She mumbled earning a sigh.

"Is this really the time for _that_ conversation?" She rolled her eyes and put an arm out towards him, letting him assist her up to her feet. As she placed her weight on her false leg she lurched forward slightly, the blood draining from her face.

"Can… you-" She clenched her teeth again, hair falling in front of her face as she began to topple, Garrus grabbing her at the last minute. He helped her back into the chair as her breathing became uneven, "Fuck- Garrus- Pills-" He was already pulling the pills out of her pocket and dropping a tablet into her hand. Shepard tossed it back and hissed out air between her teeth.

"You told the doctor you weren’t in pain anymore." He stated tonelessly. She opened one eye at him and gave him a pained smirk. "You used to be good with doctors."

"I _used_ to be a meter eight-five* in my armor but things change."  She huffed. Garrus watched the drugs take effect as her body relaxed from her knee up to her the tense muscles across her temples. Finally, with a deep exhale she opened both eyes and smiled, though the smile was weak. "Okay." He offered a hand down but this time she waved it away, pressing all her weight to the cane and standing.

Garrus knew any drugs that turned a near convulsion to an easy rise were dangerous, but if it prevented her seizures he wouldn’t bring voice to his concerns. At least not yet.

Her last seizure had been in front of friends, Kaidan and Liara had both been over when Shepard's eyes suddenly went glassy and unfocused in mid-sentence, her lips continuing to form silent words.

 _"Shepard?"_ Liara had placed her hand on her wrist just as her teeth began to clack against each other. Garrus had leapt around the table and was at her side just as she'd started to cry. It passed after a minute, her eyes locked on his slowly and with a breath she smiled, the kind curve she kept just for him. Then she'd looked past him to Liara and her eyes went wide, brows closing in.

 _"It's okay."_ He'd tried to assure her, arm slung across her shoulders. She shook her head once and jerked away from him, her false leg giving way under the sudden movement. Kaidan had been just fast enough to catch her before she crashed to the ground. Garrus scooped her up without sparing their guests a word, taking her to the bedroom before her panic attack could escalate.

It had been mild - extraordinarily mild for her- but she had refused to see anyone unprescribed since.

She did let him help her into the skycar, she was still a few months of healing away from pretending to be good at that. He entered the restaurant into its directory, omni-tool open as the car began its journey.

"Liara messaged," Garrus said. Shepard was staring intently out the window, fingers flexing on the cane, "she wanted to stop by, she has some new tea-"

"No." Came the firm interrupt.

"Hackett messaged too. The SSV London SR2 will be ready for its inaugural launch in about six months," When Shepard didn’t immediately interrupt him he continued, "he's hoping you'll be in attendance." She was silent for a couple more minutes. "Its… in Anderson's honor."

"I know." It was a flat reply; he could see the passing street cars being reflected in her eyes.

"There's time to think about it." He finally said as the car parked. "Do you want to wait in here?" Maybe it was the medication still, Shepard just nodded in response eyes still locked through the window. These used to be their favorite restaurants, being that there were very _very_ few dextro restaurants in Vancouver and mostly they were in small neighborhoods or right by the stations. The owners of both restaurants were very kind and gave them a discount, as well as letting them bring food from the other in so Garrus and Shepard could eat together.

But recently press had gotten word of their favorite restaurant and often there were reporters lingering about. Shepard had taken a swing at one about two weeks ago, almost landing herself face down on the pavement if Garrus hadn’t grabbed her quickly enough. They hadn’t eaten in since.

"And a can of the tupari," Garrus added as they packed up Shepard's soup, "Blue raspberry."

"On the house," the cashier said as typed up the order. If Shepard had been present she would have felt embarrassment at the gift, she hated now more than ever being thought of as a hero. It didn’t matter to her the billions of lives she'd saved, she only thought about the people she'd failed.

When Garrus slid into the seat beside her and closed the doors down he finally realized what she'd been staring at through the window.

Despite the weather and the early darkness, the rebuild of the city was still underway including the recently renamed Shepard Center. Over the last year the city had done a lot of cleaning and rebuilding, but through the holes in the skyline the tall building was still visible- the skeleton of its rounded top lingering over the city.

Liara might have had something kind to say right now, something uplifting. Garrus took Shepard's hand off her cane, brought it up to his mouth and nuzzled against it until her eyes finally turned to him. She opened her mouth to say something but bit down on it to take a deep breath.

"You know I love you, right Garrus?" He hummed and nudged his mouth against her hand in the best approximation of a kiss he could muster without lips.

"And I love you."


	2. The Lord Giveth, The Lord Taketh Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild references to previous abuse, non-explicit depiction of a seizure.

It might have been three days without sleep for Shepard but it had been one hundred and thirteen with not nearly enough for Garrus. As soon as the bedroom door opened Garrus was awake, sitting up just in time to see Shepard limping out the door. He glanced at her side of the bed, she'd slipped out, made the blankets neat, and got to the door using her cane without waking him, he had to give her some credit for that.

He sat awake for an hour before following to check on her, in general he didn’t like it when she was out of sight but he also tried to respect her alone time. It was a hard tightrope to walk.

He found her in the kitchen, sitting with her head in her hands at the table. He pulled up the chair next to her and didn’t say a word until she glanced up at him.

"I woke you up." She mumbled, he could hear the exhaust in her voice, the tank top she had worn to bed showing off how skinny she'd become since the final push on earth.

"Yeah but I wasn’t sleeping much anyway." He answered. She blinked a few times, long and heavy. "Want to come back to bed?" She shook her head.

"Nightmare." The one word was as much of an explanation as he needed, reaching over to take one of her hands. "Anderson. He kept asking me why I got to live and he didn’t. I could see his eyes, feel his breath… He…" Her hand twitched under his. "Then Natch was there and he… and Anderson… and he was laughing."

She tilted her head down but he could already see the wet streaks marking her cheeks, the way her shoulders jumped confirmed she was crying. Garrus wanted nothing more than to reach for her, hold her, comfort her.

"It's been fifteen fucking years and I still…" she took a shake breath. "Garrus, I want the pills back- I _need_ the pills back. The sleeping pills, the ones that made the dreams go away. I can't- I can't- I feel- I’m not-" another half gasp half sob. "I’m not strong enough, I can’t do this."

"Hey," He tightened his grip on her, "you're strong, stronger then anyone I've ever met. We'll talk to Dr.Kim tomorrow, send him an email to see if we can get you back on them, okay?" She scrubbed her hand over her face and nodded frantically. Garrus knew she wouldn’t get another prescription for those sleeping pills, her seizures had quadrupled while she was taking them, and much of her awake time had been less then coherent. Though, he had to admit, she had seemed happier.

He could no longer tell which was more selfish of him to want -- That Shepard be capable, or that Shepard be happy. He'd give anything for it not to have to be a choice of one over the other. 

Suddenly she grabbed him by the front of his cowl, pulling him close.

"Garrus-" She said firmly, lips pulled back off her top teeth in a snarl, "I need you to fuck me." She punctuated her words with light shakes. "Over the table. Now." It took him a moment to process the words into a sentence he could understand, but once he had It still didn’t make sense.

"No, Shepard. No." He took her hand off him and held both of hers together.

"I- Garrus I-" She scowled at him. "I can still-- I _feel_ him Garrus. I can't- I don’t- I can't-- I-- I--" She gasped, a specific gasp Garrus had learned to recognize and fear, relaxed for a split second and then her eyes began to roll backwards, 

_Help her to the ground, carefully but quickly-- seconds can count._

_Onto her stomach or her side with her head face down for when she vomits, not if, Mr.Vakarian, when she vomits. She will vomit and if it goes back down she'll choke on it._

_Set a timer._

_Don’t put anything in her mouth, we can grow back tongues but we can't un-suffocate someone._

_She'll probably soil herself, that’s normal._

_Don’t hold down her limbs, let them jerk. If she's fighting against restraints she's straining and she'll tear a muscle but if she's jerking she's a rag doll and rag dolls don’t break. Bruises heal._

_If it keeps up for more than 40 seconds I need to know about it, if you hit a minute call an ambulance._

It lasted forty-six seconds. Forty-six seconds seemed short on paper, but when forty-six seconds are spent watching the love of your life writhe, watching her strain and scream silently-- forty-six seconds could stretch on for years.

Slowly, she stilled, breathing returning to normal. As she began to return to consciousness Garrus scooped her up and took her to the bathtub, laying her down with a rolled town behind her head. She continued to blink herself back to reality, eyes jerking around the room never settling until they finally met his and one final blink brought her out of it.

"Did…" She still sounded groggy. "Did I seize?" Garrus bit down a sigh and nodded. "Was it loud or quiet?"

"Loud." Shepard took a deep breath, ran both hands up over her face and into her hair.

"Alright," The way she shook her head told him it was anything but, "could you um, could you grab me some clothes?" By the time he returned from the bedroom she had removed her prosthetic leg and laid it outside the tub. He folded the fresh clothes over it and reached for the face cloth she'd just set down.

Shepard slapped his hand away before he could grab it, "Garrus." It was her Commander Shepard voice, the 'don’t you dare disagree with me' voice. "I really don’t need your help with this. Go call the doctor, I know you want to." He did. With kiss pressed to her forehead Garrus excused himself to the hall and dialed Dr.Kim.

Shepard was a special patient, all of her doctors accepted, and expected calls in the middle of the night. That didn’t make Garrus feel any better when Dr.Kim picked up the phone with a groggy voice.

"I'm sorry to call you at," he glanced at the clock, "four am but she had a seizure." Garrus heard the man sigh followed by the mumbling of his husband.

"Hold on," A moment later the doctor sighed, "was it one of the loud ones, or one of the quieter ones."

"Loud, I think it was triggered by a nightmare."

"How long?"

"Forty-six seconds." More mumbling and half words.

"Alright," he cleared his throat, "come in today at noon, forward me a write up about the incident and I'll review it before I see you. Right now, though… uhn, if she's in pain give her one mythoxal, half a brincole, and get her to take her potassium supplement now or else she'll wake up with a migraine," as he spoke Garrus' omni-tool automatically started recording the dosages, "If she's not in too much pain give her half a brincole, and one rithox, she can take an aspirin too if she just needs something to take the edge off. Try to get her to drink a full glass of water with it, or if she can stomach it, a glass of milk. If she can't, or you don’t think she can, don’t risk it. If she vomits up the rithox we can't risk a re-dose for several hours,

"Do not give her woldoxen. Even if she's going blind with pain, she can't have it. Not even if she seizes from pain, its better she seizes again then risk a hemorrhage. Let her sleep as much as possible and keep her off her feet." With a pause, he added clarity, "Keep her in the wheelchair."

"She's going to love that." He rolled his eyes and could practically hear the doctor doing the same on the other end.

"Hide her leg if you have to." With just over thirty-three centimeters of height advantage Garrus didn’t think there would be a problem putting it out of her reach.

 _Forty-eight_. He corrected himself, _its forty-eight centimeters now._

"I'll see you at noon, thank you Doctor." With another grunt the doctor hung up.

Shepard was already clean, dry, dressed and sitting on the edge of the tub trying to re-attach her leg. "You might want to delay that," She glanced up, "Doc wants you in the chair for a while."

"What?" She demanded, loudly enough that he winced. "No fucking way." He knelt beside her, gently taking the leg from her.

"He's just being cautious; can you blame him? It's been-"

"It's been three weeks since my last one and they used to be daily so I think," Shepard snapped, "confining me back to that god damn chair is a little bit of overkill." He shrugged and looped an arm around her under both arms to help her stand.

"Doctor knows best." He replied simply. He could feel it in her body that she wanted to argue with him, but she went silent and still until they reached the bedroom. He sat her down on the bed, in the there he could see the red marks on her leg from where the prosthetic usually rubbed.

When he returned from the kitchen, mess there cleaned, a glass of water in one hand and a cup of pills in the other Shepard hadn't moved.

"I'm not going back in that fucking chair." She was staring intensely at the wall across from the bed. "I worked too fucking hard to go back in that chair. I-" Her eyes screw shut and she presses the heal of her hand into one. He couldnt tell if it was a head ache or if she was trying to fight crying, either way he regretted not asking Dr.Kim about ativan. "They cant do this."

He knew what she was thinking, could hear it in the spaces between her words. Garrus knelt down in front of her, a hand on her knee.

"They can't drag me back from death, force me to walk and then force me not to. I'm not-" She sighed and gave her head a shake. The twitch of her fingers betrayed her internal counting. He laughed suddenly, shaking her head. "The Lord Giveth, The Lord Taketh Away." 

Despite the alien idiom he understood what she meant, twice Shepard had been pulled back from dead at the will of the living.

With a defeated sigh, she took the pills and down the water. She rolled her body onto the bed, laying down flat on her back. Garrus climbed onto his side and wrapped an arm around her.

"Garrus, promise me," He could tell he wasn’t going to like whatever she was about to ask, "promise me if I die again, you'll just let me go." Not a single cell of his body thought he would be able to agree to that but his grip on her tightened.

"I'll do my best."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided I'm going to continue this a bit, I'm such a slut for angst I cant help but add more. I'm also producing a comic right now that runs tandem in this story,[ check it out if your interested.](http://terminussystem.com/chasingthesun/)

**Author's Note:**

> *if anyone's curious one meter eight-five is about 6'1. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, I havnt decided if I should continue this or not, so please drop me some feed back. Thank you <3


End file.
